Night of the Living Platoon
by Tybalt C
Summary: Keroro gets visited by the supernatural versions of his platoon mates as punishment for abandoning them to die. Oneshot, rated T to be safe. Please read, unless you don't like slightly creepy stories or Keroro getting what he deserves for once.


**A/N:**

**A quick oneshot to get back at Keroro for being a jerk to his platoon so often. Kinda creepy, but hopefully nothing too bad. Have fun!**

* * *

><p>Keroro stared at the Viper in front of him. Fear screamed and twisted inside of him as the reptilian alien slowly raised his naturally-ocurring arm-cannon. He cast a quick glance at his platoon members in the old, abandoned warehouse.<p>

Giroro was badly injured from a close hit by Viper. Lying on the ground a few feet away, bleeding, he slowly struggled to reach one of his nearby weapons.

Tamama was clearly exhausted and couldn't pull off many more of his Tamama Impacts. He stumbled forward, preparing to attempt defeating Viper again with a chi attack.

Kululu was on his back, scrabbling and feeling for his glasses. He wasn't badly hurt, however, the lack of his glasses rendered him near-blind and helpless.

Dororo was struggling to rise and fight Viper again. His sword was broken and he sported numerous cuts all along his body. He still seemed to be willing to fight, but only just barely.

Keroro himself was petrified. He had seen his platoon crushed in mere minutes. And this fear warped itself inside of him until he was filled with only one urge. To flee. To hop on his saucer and fly far, far away. It took him a few minutes to realize that he had already dashed to his saucer, blasted through a window, and was on his way to the Hinata house.

Several minutes of quiet guilty denial with himself later, he was lying in his bed, with the lights out, shivering to himself. He hadn't seen any sign of his fellow Keronians, and he feared the worst.

_I killed them..._ He guiltily mulled over this thought in his head. _I left them to die... _

Keroro suddenly sat up, rubbing his head. _Heh, I just need to relax. I know! I'll build one of my Gundams! _Filled with Gundam-fueled determination, Keroro got out of bed and moved over to the light switch.

_Clik._

_That's odd... The lights aren't turning on..._ Keroro's mind barely computed this before a voice ecchoed out. It was quiet enough to forget about if he tried, and he couldn't quite make out what it was saying. It sounded kind of like someone he knew though...

"That's too much, Keroro-kun..."

Keroro was shocked. "Dororo?" he warily questioned, slowly, cautiously turning around. He couldn't see anyone there, but he knew he heard something. Maybe it was his conscience?

"That's too much, Keroro-kun..."

Two things flashed through his mind simultaneously. The first was, _I have a conscience?_ And the second was, _I know I wasn't imagining that. _He peered into the gloom in his room. A faint outline lingered there, if you squinted, you could almost make out the faint shape of...Dororo! Keroro looked harder. Yes it was Dororo, but it wasn't. He was thin, pale, and eerily translucent. His mask hung loose, and he seemed to be dressed in a creepy, tattered white gown.

"You left me to die, Keroro-kun..."

Keroro screamed and ran for the door, the wispy, wraith-like Dororo following in an erratic, floating zigzag. Scrabbling at the door handle, he realized with a start that it was locked. He turned to face Dororo, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as Dororo picked up speed, floating quickly towards him until he made contact with Keroro-

And vanished into thin air. Keroro involuntarily shivered, then sat down hard. He was traumatized, but then he sighed. Getting up, he reached for a random box of Gundam and began to open it, noting the time as he did so...

10:32 PM

* * *

><p>11:06 PM<p>

Keroro stared at his completed Gundam, feeling a grand total of no solace whatsoever from his usually revered hobby. This worried him. If Gundam didn't help, what could he do to calm down? All throughout his Gundam solitude his thoughts had been plagued by unfamiliar feelings of guilt and worry, and the strange noises which accompany night scared him much more than usual.

CRRUNCH!

Keroro jolted up out of his dazed half-awake state with a start and quickly turned around to see the source of the noise. A strangled gasp escaped him as he spotted the ghastly hand breaking out of the floor of his room. It seemed strangely familiar, small, dark blue, nearly black in fact, but it had creepy gashes along it. Keroro's eyes widened as the second hand, and the arm attached to it, forced their way up a few inches off. Keroro already had a sneaking suspicion of who it was, but it still came as a surprise as the decrepit, half-dead face of Tamama shoved its way up through the ground with an eerie "Guunso saaaan..."

Keroro shook with fright as he stared at Tamama's undead self. Tamama shuffled slowly towards Keroro menacingly, and what the cheesy classic zombie walk lacked in inspiring fright, Tamama made up for with the fact that he was an authentic, actual, honest-to-dead zombie, which gave the walk some much-needed leverage. Keroro, naturally, would've been creeped out even if Tamama hadn't been a zombie. Seeing as Tamama was, in fact, a zombie gave Keroro a major fright.

"Your platoon is dead, Gunso saaaan..." Tamama's voice, as well as his rage-style eyes, were really unnerving to Keroro.

"You left us to diie..."

"You could've saved us..."

"Now...You...Will...Pay!"

Zombie Tamama leapt towards Keroro suddenly, arms flailing, eyes spinning crazily, head lolling, mouth opened wide. Keroro fell backwards over his Gundam table, bracing for the inevitable attack...

Nothing happened.

Then, after a few seconds, nothing continued to happen. Keroro's eyes crept slowly open. Tamama was gone. So was the hole he had burst out of. There was no trace that one of his former platoon members had returned for undead vengeance. Sweat rolled down Keroro's head as he turned back to his Gundam, setting it on its feet.

11:10 PM

* * *

><p>11:27 PM<p>

The night dragged on slowly. Much too slowly. Sergeant Keroro, at first merely somewhat worried, had quickly had his mentality deteriorate into paranoid shambles. Every creaking floorboard turned into someone there to brutally murder him, every small noise a spirit seeking vengeance on a small, pitiful alien frog.

Several completed Gundam models lay on his table, monuments to his retrogressing sanity. The first was the same standard as he built all his Gundams to, however, as you examined each model following that you could see the limbs being connected a little less skillfully, the decals a little more off-center, the paint job a little more sloppy, until it reached the point where the model was barely recognizable, as was Keroro.

Bags lurked under his eyes, his hands fidgeting, eyes darting back and forth, teeth chattering, knees quaking, face pallid.

Then, he saw it. A burst of flame erupted majestically in the center of his room. Keroro instinctively crawled away, getting as far away as possible from it, for he knew it was a harbinger of something. And it was.

Standing there as the flames dispersed was Giroro. He commanded attention. Keroro's eyes stared as he took in the new, demonic Giroro. Small, red horns poking out of a scarlet hat. Pure red eyes. A barbed tail. Fangs. Claws.

And a wicked-looking trident. It gleamed with an unseen source of light as Keroro took in the pointed barbs, long red handle, and sinister look of the one holding it.

Giroro took in Keroro's quaking form with a contemptuous glare. In a malevolent tone, he began speaking.

"Hmph. Look at the proud Sergeant Keroro, cowering in the corner. You sicken me. We were supposed to conquer this planet, you fool! And look at this, you left us to die at the hands of Viper, while you lived on. Coward!"

He punctuated this last remark with a loud thump of his trident. He raised it briefly, before shouting out, "DIE!" and dashing in, spearing Keroro on the end of his trident-

Which promptly vanished, along with its wielder in a puff of red smoke, leaving behind the small, pitiful shell of a once arrogant alien invader, brought to his knees by guilt and fear.

11:34 PM

* * *

><p>11:59 PM<p>

Keroro's tortured brain had been echoing with guilty, terrified, cowardly, craven thoughts for a long while of torturous, punitive silence. He knew his end was near, and his fears were confirmed when the cruel laughter began echoing throughout the room, confirming hid fears as the most malicious member of the Keroro platoon taunted him from the shadows.

"Ku ku ku ku ku ku..."

Keroro shook with fear as he nervously watched the clock tick, inching towards the time he knew his doom would arrive, neatly packaged.

12:00 AM

And then he appeared.

Kululu's face glared out of a black, hooded robe. A scythe was brandished, menacingly, as Kululu grinned, face filled with utter malice and pure evil intent.

"Your soul deserves punishment in the most deep, fiery pits of hell itself. Ku ku ku."

The condemning words echoed out, burying themselves deep into the roots of his subconcious. One words managed to force its way past Keroro's dry, cracked lips.

"P-punishment?"

A grin of pure, unbridled hatred greeted him. "Punishment, yes. All four of us agree. It was frighteningly unanimous. You are to be banished to the deepest, most utterly, devastatingly painful punishment chambers for abandoning us. We all agreed. All of us."

Keroro's eyes widened. "B-b-b-but..."

They appeared from the shadows of his room. Wraith Dororo, Zombie Tamama, Demon Giroro. They all joined Reaper Kululu in the center of his room.

"It was all too much, Keroro-kuuun..."

"You must be punished, Gunso-san..."

"Your comeuppance has arrived, Sergeant."

"And now...Ku ku ku ku...Your SOUL!"

The scythe descended with such speed and accuracy that Keroro almost didn't see it until it nearly reached his face. The blur of blackened steel shot towards him like lightning, until reaching him and rendering his soul from his body...

The pain!

It burned!

Arrrrgghhh...

12:05 AM

* * *

><p>The next morning, Fuyuki found Keroro, white as a sheet, passed out stone cold by the wall. Inside his room, Dororo was meditating, Giroro was polishing his gun, Tamama was eating snacks, and Kululu was typing on his laptop. They all appeared perfectly normal.<p>

* * *

><p><em>What Happened?<em>

_I bet you're trying to figure out what happened that the platoon was alive at the end of the night. If you figured it out, good job! What happened was this. After Keroro left the abandoned warehouse, the rest of the frogs only barely managed to beat Viper, but they did. However, they were all severely ticked at Keroro for abandoning them. So Kululu dug up some old extra-realistic Halloween costumes and rigged Keroro's room with a hologram projector, an anti-barrier to block out any screams that might be heard by the Hinata household, and cut the power. Needless to say, it got out of hand, but in the end everyone but Keroro felt he had deserved it in one way or another._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Well, there you go! This idea's been bouncing around in my head for a while and I just had to do something about it. Please review, it makes me feel good and lets me improve my writing. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
